


Let the Human In

by ViceCaptain



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Biting, M/M, Scratching, Sibling Incest, Sin Devil Trigger, Top!Dante, of course
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 18:55:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18300032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViceCaptain/pseuds/ViceCaptain
Summary: Their exchange is like a game, like going back to being children. Going back to being each other’s family.





	Let the Human In

**Author's Note:**

> Alright. I have always been a fan of the Devil May Cry series, but I tried my hand at writing something about it only now, fuelled by the 5th chapter and damn, I loved it so much.  
> Anyway, since I had lots of stuff to put down I just made up my mind and wrote, then subjected a couple of friends to my delusions and since they strongly agreed and shared them, they convinced me to post the thing.  
> Title taken from the Of Monsters and Men's song "Human".

I was angry with my friend:  
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.  
I was angry with my foe:  
I told it not, my wrath did grow. 

And I watered it in fears,  
Night and morning with my tears;  
And I sunned it with smiles,  
And with soft deceitful wiles. 

And it grew both day and night,  
Till it bore an apple bright.  
And my foe beheld it shine.  
And he knew that it was mine, 

And into my garden stole  
When the night had veiled the pole;  
In the morning glad I see  
My foe outstretched beneath the tree. 

(William Blake, The Poison Tree) 

To realize that he had tried to accomplish that much in his last grand scheme, and that he had been the one to choke on that poisonous apple, is both unpleasant and kind of absurd. But honestly, in the end, he discovered his real enemy was himself, so it still is accurate to this day and it’s just infuriating, Vergil can thank his control if he doesn’t visibly grimace.  
My true enemy is myself… give me a break he can’t help but think, but there’s something of his whole reasoning that must show on the outside because Dante’s smirk widens and that also makes anger and something else spike into him. It’s always like that with his brother: he assumes Dante is oblivious when in fact he knows, he can perfectly read and see him. That’s his mistake, every time.  
“What’s that? You sucked on a lemon or something?” Dante asks, all smirks and innuendos. He then rises up to his feet “Are you gonna sit on your ass the whole day? And sulk?” he chuckles and is ready to go again.  
They have been fighting for hours at that point, but it’s different, they’re not trying to kill each other, everything changed after their fight on the Qliphoth … Or maybe everything is shifting back to the way it was supposed to be.

They will stop fighting at some point, but first, they will let everything come out and fly away because no one could understand each other’s pain better than themselves, but they never listened to one another, nor they spoke… They lashed out, blind with grief and deaf to any reason. So the world almost ended because of them… You see why it is wise that they get it off their chests and this time, they will really listen to the other.  
Since they landed down there, they have been speaking through their blows, words will eventually come.

Vergil scoffs and stands as well “That would mean to be subjected to your smartass remarks” he gets in position, ready to launch himself “Now, that would be hell”. In less than a second, they’re at it again, swords colliding and clashing, their gazes are even sharper and landing blows where the blades cannot. Sure, they both hide behind grins and false bravado, but every single gaze is hinted with something else, it drips with years-long loneliness, it bleeds pain and regret, it asks why and how, but it also shines with understanding (at last), they could even dare to say joy.

Their exchange is like a game, like going back to being children. Going back to being each other’s family. It also allows them to open up so honestly that every demon interrupting them triggers their fury so violently that the poor bastard gets smote in less than a second.

It is even more ridiculous to think that both of them had lived for the sword, to fight and kill, but never let it guide them, they never faced each other with the instinct, with the honesty or purity that is due to the art of the sword. Simply put, they wasted every chance to make their duels count. But not anymore.  
Every clash of steel against steel is like a confession. It’s not quite enough, of course, still, they are starting somewhere at least and the temptation to fall into pointless bickering is held at bay by the memory of a vicious punch to the face, courtesy of Nero.

Their last exchange is interrupted once again by the demons attacking them, but they don’t last very long. Silence falls over them, it almost hurts their ears after the noise of the battle. Admittedly, it also leaves them wondering about what the other is thinking.  
“We’ll have a lot of time to kill,” says Vergil, Dante turns to look at him “Yeah, it seems so” the look they exchange is filled with questions, they won’t voice them though, they won’t ask about all those they left behind, their family. 

Dante shakes his head “It amazes me.”  
“What does?”  
“All this. Why only now?” he can’t keep from taking a step closer “Why not earlier? When I reached my hand for you?”  
Vergil tsks “That really scarred you.” he simply states and the other grabs on his coat, snarling “You know, it really pisses me off how V was such a good guy, so emotional, while you are this constipated. You fooled me with that stunt.”  
“That’s what upset you? That I… V fooled you?”  
“Yes, because I had to realize that was a part of you that I never got to know.” Dante’s words hold a lot of weight and after some moment of silence, Vergil’s shoulders slump slightly, as if feeling them on him, but he won’t yield, he’s not like that and he can’t help the words that leave his mouth next “It was a weak and sorry thing that should have never existed.”  
“Too bad it turned out you needed him. Still do. And if it wasn’t for him… Well, we wouldn’t be here, you wouldn’t know you have a son and I wouldn’t know the time we spent together as kids really matters to you.”

The hold on the other’s coat relaxes, but he still doesn’t let go “You need that part of you. To be able to fuse together these two halves we both have has always been the way, but you were too stubborn… I was as well.” He looks away for a brief moment as if remembering all those times, then a soft smirk is back on his lips “Besides, didn’t that Blake guy you always liked say something like that? The marriage of Heaven and Hell? Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience?”

That earns him a surprised look from Vergil and Dante has to admit, it makes him feel good to be able to pull that look from his brother “You always had the answer, you read it since you were a kid.”  
Vergil does seem baffled in a good way, with something almost melancholic to it, as if he’ mourning the loss of something he never noticed “I didn’t expect you to have read Blake.” He says quietly and the two of them are now mere inches apart.  
Dante’s voice is a raspy whisper when he shrugs a shoulder and replies “You always carried that book around, it made me curious. Whatever thing could make you smile like that must have been amazing, I thought, considering…” his gaze is fixed on the other, searching intently to see if he’s remembering just like he is “how rare your smiles have always been.” He finishes.

Vergil very rarely let his purest smiles shine through, back then he was such a grumpy kid, then he turned into a grieving and lost boy and in the end, an obsessed man stood before him. Now he’s ready to perhaps turn into something better, but it will take time, of course, his brother isn’t ready to smile like that just yet, but there’s recognition in his eyes. 

They are breathing each other’s air and even though they had ventured down that path already before, they never did like that. They always went for owning and marking and claiming, they touched one another to win and conquer, to throw repressed emotions at each other without stopping to read them, they had sex more than once in the past but it had always been just another way to fight.

There’s something precious and fragile in that quiet moment while their lips graze each other, swords hanging from their hands, eyes slowly closing to savor their taste, fully…  
Of course, that has to be the moment they are attacked by demons again and the fragile stasis shatters, both brothers quickly shift and return to their usual selves. This time they are pissed at the interruption.

“If this keeps up, we’ll have to kill off every last piece of shit demon down here.” Grunts Dante and he wants to sound carefree, but it’s clear that he’s not happy to have lost the connection that they were just having… Or at least it is clear to Vergil, maybe because he feels the same “Wasn’t that the real reason we jumped in this hole?” he asks sarcastically.  
His brother laughs “No can do, I have a rent to pay.” he replies, at which Vergil spins to looks at him, that damn smirk on his lips, the one that usually means he’s about to say something he won’t like “I got the impression you weren’t paying many bills as it was.” he lifts a brow “Maybe you should also take jobs that aren’t tied to me.”

For being a guy that aims at ‘emotionless’, he does sound mocking in a playful way. Honestly, Dante had missed all that, the rage subdues as a grin curls his lips “You really can’t be judging.” He strides towards Vergil and something about him and his smile make him look younger. Happier.  
It had always been subtle but pain and grief never left his gaze, they lingered at the edges of his smile. Vergil hates to admit it, but Dante had surely been better at hiding his true feelings than he had ever been.

Yet, that seems to shift, at least a little. They’re standing closer again, looking at each other’s eyes.  
“Like you’re one to talk, mister ‘I always send in a sickly guy holding a book and then signal my presence from afar’.” Dante mocks. This time Vergil doesn’t even try to mask the affronted look and his brother all but laughs.  
“Oh boy, you love them huge, uh” a brief hesitation before he ends “towers.”  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“Come on, everyone noticed. Giant demonic dick sprouts from the ground? Well, I guess Vergil must be in town.” That earns him a pointed look, but the other doesn’t give up so easily as he steps closer, brings them at mere inches from one another once again.  
“Too bad you’re the only dick that’s still standing, though.” Is Vergil’s reply.

The other flashes the slyest shit-eating grin before ending “Oh, that’s why you like me so much then.”  
He’s taunting him to see if he can make him snap. Vergil would really like to prove him wrong, but he just can’t and this time there’s no soft grazing of lips, he launches himself at his brother like a choking man searching for air.  
Their lips clash together and it’s dirty, urgent, all teeth and bites, stealing each other’s breath.

Dante’s arms sneak around his waist, swords dropping to the ground, he claws at his back while his brother fists his hands in his clothes, holding onto him as if they could be swept away. There’s a battle for control while helpless sounds are pulled from their throats. Dante tightens his hold, his kisses turning famished, Vergil can’t help but yield under his strength, almost clinging to him, like it happened many other times and yet completely different.

Their hands move to fumble at their clothes, unable to part their lips, fingers working urgently, all the time they’re supposed to have is forgotten now, they need and need, as greedy as they are capable of being. They might have centuries to live, but all the time they already wasted is never coming back and they aren’t just demons, they’re human too.  
As soon as their clothes lie in a heap on the ground, Dante claims control, pushing Vergil against a tall rock, his back getting scratched and neither of them really care.

Their weapons are also forgotten to the side, there’s only them and the feeling of skin against skin, a heat that they could never find anywhere else and how long has it been since they saw each other like that? Raw, exposed and disheveled. Only then they break free from their furious kisses, taking a moment to study each other’s skin; no matter if they can regenerate, there are faint lines where scars should be and there are new ones over both bodies, something that probably only the two of them are capable of seeing.

Dante growls softly at the sight, possessively, edging closer and forcing Vergil to cling to him, his eyes are sharp as steel and furious as he discovers new scars on him but he can’t even speak, so he assaults his neck, kissing, biting and marking his skin, pulling muffled moans from him, making him scratch his back even more against the stone. He tries to put up some kind of resistance but Dante is unrelenting and his fighting back is nothing more than a game. 

Their hips grind together, breath hitching in their throats, they never were for sweetness, don’t feel like they are entitled to kindness, but for the first time, they’re not possessed by rage. There’s no struggle or point to prove, they are exposing themselves, raw and wild and not hiding anything.  
“Hurry up” orders Vergil, breathless, and Dante doesn’t have to be told twice, he wastes no time before aligning and thrusting into the other. He then stops to revel in the feeling, they’re both panting and shivering from the intensity.

A swirl of pain, pleasure, and heat runs through their nerves; they skipped preparation just to feel that violent mix, similar to battle and just as pure. Once that moment is over, Dante moves his hips and trembling moans are pushed from the other while he arches his back and neck, offering it to more biting and marking. Every bite mark signals belonging more than possession, every scratch witnesses helpless need, every broken sound, and famished kiss is a confession, holding more meaning than any word they aren’t capable of uttering.

The slow and deep pace turns into a quick, brutal pounding, Dante grunts and growls softly, not even able to say anything right then, his eyes studying every reaction and movement as Vergil finally gives up control, broken words leaving his lips, begging and almost sobbing; his muscles are tense, sweat gleaming over his pale skin. It’s fast and dirty, thrusts aiming for that spot that has him cry out like some animal, but as the initial burn shifted into relentless pleasure, so their control slipped away.

There are no warnings before Vergil arches against his brother, calling his name as he climaxes, nails digging into Dante’s back while he chases his own release, not even bothering to pull out.  
They slowly slide to the ground, panting and still tangled together, words unnecessary as they keep nibbling at each other’s lips and skin, hands caressing paths along their bodies, followed closely by their eyes. Their hearts are racing madly, perhaps even faster now in the aftermath than they had done during their intercourse. Because, apparently, those quiet and intimate moments were the real groundbreaker to them; admittedly, they never allowed something like that before.

Still wordlessly, Dante straightens and handles Vergil, moving him. The other is about to ask what is he doing when his brother inches closer and makes him stand on his four, leaning against his back and even though Vergil can’t see, he can feel that Dante is transforming, shifting.  
“Round two.” He whispers directly in his ear, voice turning midsentence into its sin devil trigger version; shivers run through his whole body, just the mental image is enough to make his insides quiver and as much as he is tempted to just follow right after, he revels in the feeling of being held down while he’s helpless compared to the other, it’s a guilty pleasure and, right then, that faint voice that called for protection and love his whole life is silenced.

Dante’s hands grab on him, leaving red marks behind, they are possessive but there’s something reassuring to their firm hold and it clicks just then that it’s probably because he’s afraid of letting him go, of losing him again. What a couple of fools… He can’t think anymore as soon as Dante thrusts right back into him, claws almost tearing his skin as he holds Vergil down, he nibbles and licks at his nape and neck, sucks marks on his shoulders, bites him like a rabid dog and draws blood. The other whimpers and moans under him, pleasure making him lose his mind.

It doesn’t take long before Dante is fucking into him, picking up the pace, speeding up and then slowing down again, torturing them both with heat. Vergil arches between his hands as if trying to meet his hips halfway, to get more; his brother chuckles and gives him a forceful thrust, as if punishing him, putting him in his place. It makes him go even wilder, giving him exactly what he wants but can’t admit.

“Don’t you dare leave me again.” Dante growls in his ear and there’s something akin to begging in his voice, Vergil is the one that can’t even put together something sensible this time, the forceful pounding makes his arms give way, he finds himself pressed between the other and the ground, bent over like an animal; his hands fist the dirt and dry grass, his whole body is on fire, heat running along the nerves, his insides twitching every time the other aims at his sweet spot.

Then Dante abruptly stops and Vergil can only whimper in protest before he finds himself sitting in the other’s lap, sprawled against his chest and exposed, his hands travel all over his stomach and hips while his wings bend closer as if trying to cover him, almost gently holding him.

“Let me see you” whispers Dante roughly, licking a stripe along his pulse point and then humming appreciatively as Vergil moves his hands to grab on his horns, leaning against him, spread and open, he can only take whatever his brother gives him, moaning helplessly and arching his back. 

They’re almost desperate, chasing their release, but at the same time, they wish to drag it out, to endure that torturous heat. Of course, they never were patient, they need and want, so it doesn’t take long before the pace quickens again, Dante being in charge and switching to a rough and fast rhythm, letting out beastly sounds, he really seems a devil right now and yet, his every gesture holds kindness and care, beneath the fury and the heat.

It’s almost frantic how they race to their climax, Vergil comes with a broken moan, release staining his chest and stomach, back arching in a way that his beautiful form is offered to Dante’s sight; he grunts in appreciation and after three more vicious thrusts he’s finishing as well, calling the other’s name as his transformation fades away and they both fall to the ground, panting.

They’re a mess, but they don’t really care as they shift to embrace, clinging to one another as if afraid that all that heat could stream away in a matter of seconds, their lips grazing and kissing almost lazily.  
They eventually untangle from their hug, not without difficulties, finding that the warmth replacing the heat is just as appreciated. But they will have to keep going. So they stand and dress up. 

Of course, their only goal is to survive until they somehow can return to earth, if that’s even going to happen; at least they just discovered they can really use the time to sort things out between them.  
“I bet Nero will find a way to fish us out of this shithole.” Says Dante after a while “the brat is far too stubborn for his own good.” And the pride in his voice is far too obvious.  
“I noticed that much.” Adds Vergil and he’s not really holding his pride back either “Is he always… Like that?” he asks with a hand gesture aimed at underlining his words.

The other snorts “Eh, he used to be far worse, believe me” the memories of how young, pissed and painfully fragile he used to be still make something ache in his chest, though he won’t ever admit it.  
“He just needed someone to guide him. I mean, even more so after his brother in law died” says Dante and the double take Vergil does is comical.

“Wait, what? Is he married?” and he is this far from choking on air, his brother shrugs with a chuckle “Not yet” he replies, the other needs a second to digest the news, understandably, but then he asks “How is she?”  
“Well, she’s a good girl.”  
“And?”  
“What?”  
Vergil scoffs, almost annoyed “Does she have some special ability, talent or power?” the ‘duh’ is implied.  
“She cooks some pretty amazing lasagna” and Dante is not even kidding.

The older brother rolls his eyes, exasperated “Seriously? He’s just as thick as you, I can see why you also are a father to him.”  
Wow, they had their family reunion just some days ago and Vergil is already acting as a stern father AND a pissed wife. Dante sighs “I guess it’s quite obvious I am the cool dad here.”  
“What?”  
“Nothing… Just… Cut the guy some slack, will you? He’s a good man. He used to be a lil’ bitch, mind you, but he grew up so well… I wish you could have seen him.” Dante’s voice softens, it will never stop hurting to realize just how lost and lonely Nero had been, how he was the true victim in all that mess “Hell, I wish I could have seen him as well.” He adds.

He often wonders about Nero’s childhood and how things would have been different if he had found the kid sooner. They both remain quiet for a while, Vergil turns his back on him, as he usually does when he tries to hide what he’s really thinking.  
“It’s not too late, right?” and he had rarely sounded that insecure, makes Dante want to just pull him between his arms “He did his damnedest to stop us from killing each other” he says “I’d say it’s right about time.”

He then steps closer to the other, gently nudges him in the side, showing him a genuine smile for a change “In the meantime, since you like to think you’re the clever one, come up with a plan to pay rent… Since V never paid me.” His words seem to put a smile on Vergil’s face “You are such a dick, Dante.”  
“Still your favorite, though.” And right then they both look younger as if they found something that was lost a long time ago.

“I’m not living in that flashy hole you call a shop.”  
“You totally are.”


End file.
